


Better days

by wannabe_free



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 13:54:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannabe_free/pseuds/wannabe_free
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall is the guitar teacher but he wants to be so much more.</p><p>AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better days

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I wrote this in less than 24 hours, not betaed, English is not my first language so get ready for a bumpy ride x

 

 

Niall takes a look around his flat and panics. His first student of the day is meant to be there soon but yesterday he had friends over, got drunk and forgot to care about tidiness and now, with barely 10 minutes there’s nothing Niall can do about it.

 

At least it’s Zayn, he thinks. Not his most talented student with the guitar but he is definitely his favorite one, or at least he used to be until he started skipping the majority of their lessons. He never gives excuses. He just calls, offers a rushed “Can’t today mate, sorry again.”  and promises that  they’ll catch up next week. Niall tries to be cool about it because he likes him.  Zayn is a sound guy and Niall is sure that if they had met under different circumstances they would have been great friends. So, for a while, Niall dismisses every time Zayn stands him up and profusely insists that it’s absolutely okay, that probably Zayn just has a lot of stuff going on right now.

 

The thing is, Zayn always calls to cancel in the last minute and Niall doesn’t even have the chance to call another student to come in his place. He is losing his time and his money and yeah, he likes Zayn, but he doesn’t know him that well to put up with this. So, when his phone rings and Zayn announces that he won’t make it that day, Niall tells him that maybe they should stop with the guitar lessons so that Zayn can focus in whatever is going on in his life.

 

Zayn seems taken aback. He jumps to say, “Oh yeah, sure, guess you are right!” And he is so nice and chilled about it that Niall feels like an absolute prick. Afterwards there’s a long string of “I’m sorry’s” and “It’s fine’.” And they part ways amicably with a promise of “I’ll see you around.”

 

After that Niall carries on with his life, his guitar lessons and his little gigs at the pub down the road on the weekends. He is a happy man; never been high maintenance. He needs his friends, his beers and for Derby to win their next game and that’s pretty much about it. He is an Irishman living the dream in London and life is treating him good and in the rush of it all, Niall forgets to remember about Zayn.

 

Time stretches for months to the point where Zayn’s name slips out of Niall’s memory and he forgets the exact shade of his eyes or how he liked his tea and finally Zayn stops being his student to become someone that he used to know.

  


 

  


Then, one day, their paths cross again.

  


 

Niall stands in the cereal aisle of his local supermarket, a box of cereals in each hand and his brows knitted in concentration when he hears a metallic clash.

 

He turns around startled and finds a little boy hiding behind a trolley, his amber eyes wide in bewilderment and looking impossibly guilty. Niall chuckles, bends down on his knees and says “Hey little dude. Looks like there’s been a collision, you okay?”

 

The child blinks at him a couple of times and before he can reply there’s a commotion and the sound of a man taking long strides towards them. Just looking at the child’s face Niall guesses who is coming; there’s an uh oh drawn all over his baby face, and he is nervous and fidgety with the absolute knowledge that he is in trouble, then a, “James! I told you to be careful!”

 

Niall hears him before he sees him and he immediately recognizes the exotic accent curling around the words and the melodic voice. Then his eyes land on his face and his suspicions are confirmed. Zayn Malik stands before him fussing over the little kid and only after he’s made sure that the boy is okay, he looks at Niall.  There’s a flicker of recognition in his liquid amber eyes. He smiles. Smiles so big that a few tiny crinkles appear by his eyes; he seems truly delighted to see Niall.

 

“Hey Niall, what a surprise, mate!” Zayn pats him on the shoulder and then points at the kid with his head, “Sorry about that!”

 

Niall laughs heartily, “Is this little dude yours?”

 

It’s a stupid question, really, because it is rather obvious that this kid, James, is Zayn’s son. He is a little version of him, with his tanned skin and his golden eyes. He can’t possibly be older than five, there’s an air of innocence about him that tells Niall that he is still at that blissful stage of life where everything seems new and great and exciting.

 

Zayn looks at the child who stands right in front of him clutching at the material of his t-shirt. He ruffles his hair with fondness and smiles, “He’s my little devil, his name is James.” Then, talking to the child, he adds, “This is Niall, he used to teach me how to play guitar.”

 

James doesn’t say anything; he looks bored and ready to crash his trolley against another victim. For the time being, though, he contents himself with a reconnaissance of the territory.

 

“So how have you been?” Niall asks, “Still playing the guitar?”

 

Zayn looks sheepish at his feet, “Not really, I don’t have much time with James around.”

 

Niall nods, chuckles internally when he sees the little boy running towards them carrying at least six different types of cereals on his arms.

 

“Oh, that’s a shame, you were good.” He says.

 

Zayn nods and there’s a flicker of nostalgia in his eyes. “Yeah, mate. Sorry again about standing you up so many times. I was going through a rough patch. But I really enjoyed our lessons.”

 

Niall waves a hand dismissively, “No, no worries.”

 

Zayn offers him a small, tired smile and says, “I’d wish I had more time to keep learning but, you know, there’s just me to look after James, so…”

 

Niall tenses a little; wonders if he should ask Zayn why there’s just him to look after James or if that would be too nosy. He didn’t knew Zayn had a child, didn’t even knew that he had a girlfriend, or a wife or whatever. They got along very well but they never really talked about their personal lives during the lessons. Finally, Niall settles for a non-committal, “Oh yeah, I imagine what it must be like.” And Zayn smiles at him again and replies, “I should go before James fills our trolley with boxes of cereals but maybe we could have a beer and catch up sometime?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Niall chirps in, “just let me know when you are available.”

 

Zayn nods, “Do you still have the same number, right?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, just call me or text me whenever.”

 

“Will do,” Zayn replies. He takes a quick glance at James, then looks back at Niall, “Was good seeing you again, mate. I’ll call soon.”

 

“Okay.” Niall replies “See you around then. Bye James!”

 

The kid looks at him, gives his a toothy smile and waves his hand enthusiastically, dropping a couple of boxes of cereals in the process. Niall chuckles again, he is adorable.

 

 

Zayn takes his time to call and Niall waits for it patiently. He makes sure his phone is always on, charged etc. He’s rather excited about catching up with Zayn because that’s the kind of person Niall is. He cares about people so he would like to hear that Zayn is doing okay, would like to help him if that wasn’t the case. The beers are just a plus. But Zayn takes so much time to call that Niall starts thinking he just won’t do it.

 

For once Niall is glad to be mistaken; Zayn calls three weeks after their little encounter at the supermarket, tells him that James will sleep at his friend’s house and they name a couple of pubs they like. Niall chooses the place, Zayn chooses the time, and it’s not really a surprise that they come to an agreement so soon.

 

 

It turns out that James is not Zayn’s son but his nephew.

 

Zayn sits in front of him with his shoulders slumped down in a relaxed posture. The copious amounts of beer has loosened up his tongue and the conversation has turned around completely from a “we barely know each other; sort of awkward” to “I’m taking care of my sister’s child cos she can’t do it anymore.”

 

“That’s why I had to cancel all the time. My sister had to spend long periods of time hospitalized. The rest of my family lives in Bradford and James goes to school in London. We didn’t want to mess too much with his habits cos he’s still too young and has been through a lot so he stayed with me and I look after him.”

 

The constant use of past tense should have been a warning sign, but Niall’s brain is working slowly with alcohol and weariness so he doesn’t really filter it when he asks, “I hope she is better?”

 

Zayn goes pale and Niall knows he has just put his foot in it. He sits up straighter on his seat and tries to think something to fix it but Zayn rubs his face and sighs, “She passed away three months ago, so James has moved in with me permanently.”

 

Niall bites his bottom and his face scrunches up with concern, “Oh, I’m so sorry, Zayn.”

 

“Yeah, we saw it coming; she was diagnosed with depression after labor.” Zayn explains somberly, “Her husband died four months before James’ birth in a car accident. The doctors said that depression after birth is rather common because of the hormones and stuff, and that, added up to the stress and trauma, just made it all worst. In the end depression led to anorexia and she was just too weak to carry herself. I don’t know, it was awful, the poor child lost both of his parents in barely three years.”

 

Niall gasps and suddenly all the beer sits uncomfortably and heavy in his stomach. “God,” He mutters, “I can’t believe what it must have been like for you, losing a sister and  having to take care of a five year old.”

 

Zayn finishes his beer in two large gulps and Niall can’t really blame him.

 

“Yeah,” He replies, “I’m still adjusting to it. I had to change my job because I couldn’t work the afternoons, and well, definitely my social life is pretty much over, but we are doing fine given the circumstances.”

 

Niall notices Zayn’s bags under his eyes for the first time and takes in the weariness in his eyes, says “Zayn, if there’s anything I could do to help…” he trails off and adds, “I know this is something people just say, but I mean it. If you ever need someone to babysit James, or I don’t know, whatever, just call me.”

 

Zayn smiles at him warmly, “You did enough.” He replies, “Back then I only had your lessons to look for. I spent my weeks waiting for the day I had a lesson with you, you know? That was like the only time I could take my mind off everything, but then something would came up and I had to cancel.”

 

“If I had known I wouldn’t…”

 

“No, Niall.” Zayn interrupts, “It should have been me who realized I didn’t have time for it anymore. I guess I just clung onto it for too long.”

 

Niall slumps on his seat again. He studies Zayn as the older boy asks for another pint and comes up with an idea, “Know what?” He starts, “If you really enjoyed the lessons that much, maybe you should start taking them again.”

 

Zayn, however, shakes his head, “Well, I wish, but I don’t have anyone to look after James once a week.”

 

“Well, we’ll think of something!” Niall chirps in. He leans his body forward over the table, suddenly excited and adds, “Like, um, I don’t know, maybe I could go over to your house instead? We’d distract James with puzzles or movies or whatever, so that you wouldn’t need anyone to babysit him.”

 

Zayn looks at him. His lips are wet with beer and they look almost as shiny as his eyes; he looks touched.

 

“Niall I don’t want you to go out of your way…” He trails off.

 

“But it’s really no trouble at all.” Niall insists, “We shop at the same supermarket so I guess you don’t live too far, right?”

 

“No, not far, like, 15 minutes’ walk.”

 

“See?” Niall chugs the rest of his beer and beams at Zayn, “No trouble at all.”

 

Zayn looks at him intently as he contemplates the possibility. He’s excited, you can tell. He wants to do this so bad but he wonders if that’s the right thing to do, and Niall understands that Zayn’s life does no longer belong to him;  now everything is about James. Because naturally, when you have a five year old under your watch you can only afford to do the right thing and if you don’t, well if you don’t then you are fucked.

 

 

Zayn lives in a house with a nice garden and a small pool. It’s not flashy but there’s evidence everywhere that money is not a problem for him. There are action man and puzzles scattered all over the place, but it doesn’t look messy or filthy, it actually looks like they have been placed there strategically, like in one of those décor magazines.

 

There’s a lot of natural light and that’s probably what Niall likes the most about the place. He wishes he could live in a house like that, then remembers how he already struggles to pay the rent of his single bedroom flat.

 

Zayn has a very fancy guitar. Niall felt dizzy the day Zayn told him how much he spent on it. The blond sits on one of the leather couches and tries to become acquainted with the strings and the sounds. James is lying on the floor doodling something, his tongue poking out in concentration.

 

“I don’t know if it’s tuned properly.” Zayn says sitting by his side.

 

“Sounds good to me.” Niall replies, “Here, have these and choose the song you’d like to learn today.”

 

 

Zayn has a beautiful face. His eyes are liquid amber, framed with long jet black eyelashes. His face is craved by lights and shadows, with cheeks high and prominent, lips chapped and pouty and a jaw that is manly and sharp. Niall loves his hair, wishes he wouldn’t put so much shit on it because he looks so much better when it’s soft and fluffy and so so dark.

 

Zayn is big or small depending on the day. Sometimes he’ll wake up feeling confident, he’ll wear a tank top and look like a titan, ready to conquer the world. Other times life gets too much for him and he’ll look like he’s about to give up. He’s a hero and a victim all in the same person, the best and the worst. He’s real, so very real, and Niall likes him. He wants him so bad.

 

 

Niall is the guitar teacher but he wants to be so much more. He goes to Zayn’s once a week, twice on a good week and he falls in love with Zayn slowly but surely.

 

He prepares his lessons carefully and when he arrives to Zayn’s house, he picks up James from the floor and throws him over his shoulder. The kid laughs, high pitched and breathy against his ear and Niall laughs with him.

 

And only when he interacts with James Niall stops being the guitar teacher.

 

Zayn will stop whatever he is doing and just look at them. He never interrupts or intervenes. He stands there, his gorgeous eyes gentle on the two laughing boys, washing over them with warmth and fondness. Then the moment is over and it might have been insignificant, but those little moments are what Niall lives for.

 

 

There’s a significant shift in their relationship; as Zayn’s musical skills start getting better, Niall stops being the guitar teacher to become just Niall, or maybe Niall in capital letters. Someone who is always there, his blond locks captivating in the vibrant light of Zayn’s living room. He is someone who James writes about when the teacher asks the class to “make a description of the people you love.”  He is a constant.

 

 

“Niall, my boss just called me and he says that he needs me this afternoon.”

 

“Kay, I’ve a lesson at four, but’s it’s only an hour. Just bring the Scooby Doo dvd or something. Plus he has PE today at school, he’ll be sleepy.”

 

“Okay, I’ll drop him at 2ish if that’s okay?”

 

“Sure thing, I should be at home by 1sh.”

 

“Thank you mate, I love you.”

 

“Love you too, Zayn”

 

 

Niall has been dramatically friend zoned and that is a problem.

 

He misses the days where he was just the guitar teacher. They were less painful than the “Niall, I don’t know what I would do without you’s” or the “I love you’s” that don’t lead them anywhere.

 

He doesn’t even know if Zayn likes dick. Pessimistically suspects that right now Zayn doesn’t like dick or vagina or anything for that matter, because he is so busy with James,  his job and the house that he has stop thinking about his love life or  his sexual needs or just himself in general.

 

 

  


Niall babysits James from time to time.

 

 

He goes over to Zayn’s, and whistles as he waits for his friend to open the door but this time it’s James who comes and invites him into the house.

 

“Uncle Zayn is nervous because he’s gonna be late.”  The kid explains.

 

There are rushed steps somewhere upstairs and Niall hears a distinct “ _fuck”,_  so he bends over to kiss James on his cheek and asks him to wait in the living room.

 

 

 

He finds Zayn in his room, struggling to knit his tie.

 

“Wow,” He exclaims, “you look sharp!”

 

Zayn jolts a little and breathes out in relief. “Thank god.” He groans, “Come help me with this!”

 

Niall clicks his tongue and steps further into the room. He’s never been there but he doesn’t feel too out of place. The room is big and tidy, light and decorated with taste, just as the rest of the house.

 

He shoves Zayn’s hands away from the knot and bits his bottom lip in concentration.

 

“You are wearing a tie, what’s going on?”

 

“Just dinner with the firm but there are gonna be a couple of clients that we want to gain, so I have to look my best.”

 

Niall finishes the knot and fixes the collar of his shirt.

 

“There you go.” He says, then watches Zayn’s reflection on the mirror.

 

Zayn finds his eyes on the reflection and asks, “Do I look decent?”

 

Niall wants to say that he could die like Narcissus; unable to tear his eyes away from such a beautiful reflection. Instead he nods vehemently, not able to trust his own voice.

 

Zayn lets out burst of nervous laughter, “Well, wish me luck.”

 

Niall swallows his sadness and only when Zayn leaves the room he whispers, “You don’t need it.”

 

 

 

Niall finds antidepressants in the bathroom when he is looking for baby wipes for James and the kid who is with him, looks at the tiny bottle in Niall’s hands and says, “Oh, those are the medicines uncle Zayn takes when he gets sick.”

 

Niall feels his guts clench uncomfortably, asks, “Sick?”

 

James nods; his face scrunched up as he struggles to explain something that he can’t understand yet. “Yeah.” He starts, “Sometimes uncle Zayn gets sick with sadness because he wants to see my mommy and he can’t.”

 

There’s a distinctive pang in Niall’s chest and he opens the bottle and takes an inspective look at its insides. It’s almost empty and that is never a good sign.

 

Niall puts the bottle back where he found it and picks James up from the floor.

 

“Common, little buddy!” He says, “You’ll just have to wash your hands with water and soap like a proper grown up, okay?”

 

James nods and Niall makes a mental note to bring up the subject to Zayn later.

 

 

 

Zayn refuses to acknowledge that he has a problem.

 

He looks edgy as soon as Niall mention the pills. “I started taking them when she got ill. They help me to soothe my nerves.” He says.

 

They are sitting on the couch with the TV on mute and James sleeps on the adjacent room. Niall should probably start thinking about going home because it’s getting late and he has to work early the next day but he can’t go home without making sure that there’s nothing wrong with Zayn.

 

“You are twenty two, Zayn. You shouldn’t be taking antidepressants or sleeping pills.” Niall argues.

 

“Well I shouldn’t be mourning my sister’s death or be looking after a child, either.” Zayn snaps.

 

Niall looks at him taken aback and Zayn looks back at him.

 

“Zayn, you know you can talk to me about everything.” The blonde starts tentatively.

 

Zayn’s face falls and he looks at his lap, his Adam apple bobbing up and down.

 

“It’s okay if you are sad.” Niall insists, “You don’t have to pretend, you know? If someone has the right to be sad, that’s you.”

 

Zayn shakes his head and a chocked gasp leaves his lips. Niall can almost predict what’s going to happen and before it does he cradles Zayn in his arms and rocks him gently.

 

“Common, you are alright.” He whispers again and again.

 

And Zayn melts in his arms in a puddle of tears, bitterness and broken dreams.

 

 

James draws the three of them together when his teacher asks them to make a drawing of his family. Zayn to his right and Niall to his left. The three of them are holding hands, there’s a house and a garden, and the sun is shining.

 

The kid runs towards them, drawing in hand, when they are in the middle of one of their guitar lessons. Normally he wouldn’t interrupt, but he’s excited because he got the best mark in the class and he can’t wait to show it to them.

 

“Niall, see what I did!”

 

“Oh, you made a drawing?” Niall chirps in, “Let’s take a look!”

 

James shoves the drawing in front of their faces and there’s a loaded, pregnant silence as they take in the depiction of blissful domesticity that is James’ drawing.  Zayn clears his throat and shifts on the couch and Niall steals a glance at him and notices how flushed he is.

 

James looks at them expectantly, finally moans, “Don’t you like it?”

 

Niall gets his shit together. He sits the kid on his lap careful not to crumple the drawing and kisses the top of his head, says, “I love it, buddy! You drew me more handsome that I really am.”

 

Niall looks at Zayn and Zayn is already looking at him. And yeah, now Niall is definitely more than the guitar teacher, maybe he’s more than Niall with capital letters, but still, _that’s_ _not enough._

Niall feels touched when Zayn tells him that he wishes they could stay in London for Christmas.

 

“Don’t be silly!” Niall exclaims, “Christmas is meant to be family time.”

 

And when Zayn mutters, “ _exactly”_ Niall doesn’t understand. Not quite yet.

 

 

The night when Zayn and James come back from Bradford and Niall gets back from Ireland, they gather together at Zayn’s house to have dinner and exchange stories and Christmas presents.

 

Niall gives James a toy guitar and James gives him a beautiful metallic box with Bradford’s typical pastries.

 

  


His favorite present comes later.

 

James is already sleeping in his room and Niall is helping Zayn clear up the mess from the kitchen. Niall is making trips back and forth to the living room, bringing dirty dishes from the table and putting them into the dishwasher when Zayn shuffles forwards and corners him against the counter.

 

 He places a solid hand on Niall’s chest and they study each other openly, with no trace of shame or hesitance in their eyes. Zayn admits, “I’ve missed you.”

 

Niall smiles at him, “I missed you more.” Say back.

 

Zayn bites his lip and nods. He looks troubled, and solemn and resolute, all this at the same time. He looks like a hero and like a victim. Like he could conquer the world or he could just give up.

 

Niall’s eyes fall shut on their own accord and the last thing he sees is a flash of amber. Then he feels Zayn’s lips on his and Niall forgets to breathe.

 

He holds onto Zayn, holds onto the moment that he’s been waiting for so long. He kisses Zayn with his lips and with his heart, with his dreams and with his desire to live. Zayn kisses with his broken self, with his disappointments and his hopes.

 

And Niall thinks he feels it; the promise of better days to come.

  


  


When they break apart from the kiss, Niall’s eyes find James’ drawing stuck to the fridge with magnets. He sees the house with the garden, and three lanky figures smiling and holding hands. High above, the sun shines bright.

 

His eyes flicker to the window. It’s dark outside, but then  Zayn brings a hand to Niall’s hip and squeezes and everything stops mattering. 

The sun still isn’t shining up for them. But Niall knows that soon it will.

 

 


End file.
